


The Marathon

by benevolens



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-03-30 11:39:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3935431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benevolens/pseuds/benevolens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These are a few short drabbles written on tumblr with certain users in mind, but above all...Sherlolly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Save Me

**Author's Note:**

> Written for stateofmalice on tumblr.

_{Save me from my superstitions_

_Now I’m free, from this old condition_

_Wait just a while, and I’ll greet_

_You with a smile_

_Hold me ‘cause_

_I’m sure I’m hated_

_Promises, they are overrated_

_Wait just a while, while I’m_

_Drowning in denial_

_Turn me into someone like you_

_Find a place that we can go to_

_Run away and take me with you_

_Don’t let go I need your rescue_

_Watch me ‘cause_

_I’m on a mission_

_Hold me back, so I’m forced to listen_

_Don’t let me go ‘cause I’m nothing_

_Without you}_

In the fading haze of the morphine, Sherlock tried to clear his vision, feeling someone near. He grabbed for her blindly, having noted her scent hit his nose—the morgue and something sweet….vanilla?— and gripped her wrist tight as she turned to leave.

“Molly…” Her name fell from his lips in the softest of tones, oozing vulnerability .

His grip softened as she turned to him. So she was real….good. Finally.

“I just came to see if you were all right.” Molly admitted, feeling vaguely awkward with his hand lingering on her skin. She had meant to pop by while he was sleeping. He wasnt even meant to know. But of course he would know. He was Sherlock.

“Of course you did. I am okay. You saved me.” He whispered with his hand still curled around his wrist,.thumb rubbing over her pulse point.

He was just seeking comfort, right? He had been shot after all.   
“Sherlock….I didn’t save you…..I wasn’t there.”

He smiled lightly and attempted to laugh, coming out in a small cough instead. “But you’re always there, Molly. Everytime.I needed you….You were there to save me.”

The blush on her cheeks continued to blossom until her cheeks burned. She could feel the blush spreading and her arm tingled under his touch. She wondered if it was just the morphine talking, but he had been like this the day she had gone out on a case with him, open and…..tender. 

“Sherlock I havent seen you in days, how did I—”   
“Molly.” He cut her off again in that warning tone he often used with her.

“Sit.” He demanded, tugging her towards the bed.

She complied, sitting up straight and watching him carefully. Molly indulged him and slipped her wrist from his hold and held his hand in hers instead.   
“What is it, Sherlock?”

“I thought you were upset with me. My face still remembers.” He teased.

“Yes, well….someone shot you and I…..I came for the same reason I slapped you.” She looked down at his hand as he threaded his fingers with hers.

“I was worried.” She finished softly.

“It’s what kept me alive. That and your extensive medical knowledge.”

“If you’re talking about the fall I—”

“Molly.”

“What?” She said, tone slightly annoyed.

“You wont let me finish. Im in a weaked state. Have patience with the poorly.” He took a deep breath. “You….I can’t tell you how, but it was you that helped keep me going until the proper authorities arrived. Though it may seem odd—”

“I know how you are.”

Sherlock smiled again and nodded. “You know how I am which means you’ll have no clue where this is coming from, but thank you. No, really before you start blubbering on. Thank you, Molly Hooper.”

She felt the tears threatening her eyes and wiped at them with her free hand.

“Uhm, I suppose I should say you’re welcome.”

“I suppose you should.”

“My pleasure.” She grinned, squeezing his hand.

“I’m still very glad that ring is missing.”

Molly rolled her eyes, but couldnt help keeping the grin on her face.

“Funny, because I heard you were getting engaged to your girlfriend.”

“She was for a case.” Sherlock said, smirking up at her while she chuckled softly.

He looked up at her with a serious expression suddenly and she quieted. 

  
“Jealous?”


	2. One Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabble themed around a one night stand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for damagedand-delusional on tumblr.

When he came to her that night in the lab, she didn’t know how much he was actually asking for.

_“What do you need?”_

_“You.”_

She had gone along with it all, the plan, the fall, watching it all happen as he plummeted to the ground before her eyes and then she smuggling him away to his brother. There were the messages and then the dinner…in Paris. A highly emotional, not so much dinner in Paris. Then he was shot and called her away on holiday…holiday. Molly snorted. He was supposedly dead, wounded and here they were on the beach.

Molly pushed that all away as she sat next to him quietly on the sand.

“Did you want to go in?” She asked as she let her arm fall away from his shoulders. She stood, holding her hands out to him as he lifted himself up off the ground. Molly smiled as he dusted the sad off himself, looking disgruntled.

“What?” Sherlock narrowed his eyes.

“Nothing.” She shook her head, slipping her arm around his waist again. Molly walked slowly, in step with him.

He pulled away from her as soon as they got close enough to their room and Molly flopped down on one of the beds, promptly falling asleep.

They spent a week in mostly companionable silence. Molly spent her time at the beach and she assumed Sherlock was in the room when he didn’t come down to meet her.

One night, she returned late from the beach, she had spent her time gazing up at the stars which she rarely ever saw at home. He was sat on his bed, hunched over, head in his hands. Molly’s brows furrowed and she sat down beside him putting a hand on his arm.

“Sherlock?”

“I’ll be going after Blackwood soon.” He muttered, looking away from her.

“Right, so long as you are sure your leg is alright.”

“My leg is fine.” He growled, facing her now. She noted his reddened eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“Why do you love me?”

“I-I…where is this coming from?”

“In Paris…when we….you said all of those things and I knew…” Sherlock’s sentence trailed away.

“Maybe you should rest.” Molly stood up slowly. He caught her wrist, pulling her back down to the bed beside him.

“Molly….” Sherlock reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

She watched him carefully as his hand moved down to her cheek and his other hand slipped behind her neck, tilting her head back and Molly’s lips towards his.

“Sherlock…” he silenced her, pulling her closer. Molly pressed herself against him, pushing her own hands into his hair.    

Molly pressed up against him as Sherlock pulled her back with him. They kissed, licking and nipping softly at each others lips and soon Molly felt his hands roaming down her body, hands sliding back up towards the zipper of her dress and unzipping it with urgency. Molly felt her own fingers reach for the buttons on his shirt. He pinned her down against the bed, straddling her hips and sat back quickly undoing the buttons himself, smiling down at her cheeks covered in blush and lips already swelling from his kisses. Molly kept her eyes trained on his, occasionally wandering down to his lips as she waited for him to toss aside his shirt. He reached down pushed the straps from her shoulders and Molly let him help her right out of the dress. She bit her lip before she pulled him down to her mouth. The quickly removed every last piece of clothing and Molly felt him caress her skin with his lips, moving down the length of her torso. Molly tugged at his hair, playfully, bringing Sherlock’s lips to hers. She drew her kisses to his neck, sucking at the soft skin at the base of his neck.

The rest of the night could be remembered in a tangle of limbs, panting,breathy moans and a benediction of their names in whispers.

Molly turned and pressed a kiss to his cheek after he rolled off her, spent, breathing heavily. She curled up against him and fell asleep with her face up against his bare chest.

Molly woke to the sun fully risen, high in the sky. She smiled, turning her head to find the bed empty. Her heart thudded in her chest as she panicked. Molly sat up, holding the sheet around her, finding a small note on the pillow beside her. Her hands trembled as she raised it to her eyes.

**_“Forgive me, Molly Hooper.”_ **


	3. A Little Messy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock makes Molly clean up a few messes....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for damagedand-delusional on tumblr.

Molly pushed the glasses back on her face, concentrating on finishing the samples. She dipped the slip of paper into the chemical solution and waited for it to change colour.

She ripped the gloves off of her hands and bent over her paper scribbling down notes.

“Hello Molly.” She heard him whisper in her ear, deep voice just over her shoulder as he leaned close, reading her notes. Molly jumped and her hand swept across the table, knocking over every sample and chemical solution she had readied on the table crashing to the floor.

“Why do you have to do that?” She said slightly annoyed, roughly shutting her notebook closed and side stepping around Sherlock. She threw her head back with a sigh looking down at the mess.

“Thanks for that.” She said looking thought the cupboards for cleaning supplies. She reached up and a hand reached past her pulling the items over her head. Molly turned to look at him.   
“I believe an apology is in order.” He said with a smirk.

“Right. It’s fine.” She grabbed the dust pan from his hand and crouched down on the floor. She felt the warmth of his body, sitting next to her. Sherlock held the bin close and picked up the larger pieces of glass with his bare hands.

“Don’t. Leave it.” Molly slapped away his hand. Sherlock hissed a couple of seconds later.

“What is it?” Molly said sounding tired.

“I believe you have exacted your revenge entirely by mistake.” Sherlock held put his bleeding hand to her.

Molly set down the pan and took his hand in hers, sliding her glasses to sit on her hand. She pulled him up with her and tugged on his hand, holding it up towards the light.

“I’ll get it out for you.” Molly heaved a sigh and went to retrieve the first aid kit. What was he doing here? No cases, no dead bodies for him to look at and yet here he was materialized in her lab.

“And what was it that you needed today?” Molly asked as she found him sitting on the table which was now devoid of her work.

“Experiment?”

“What kind of experiment?” Molly poured out some rubbing alcohol on some cotton and sanitized his hand.

“I’ve been recently looking into sentiment.”

“Sentiment? How can an experiment tell you about sentiment?” Molly settled his hand on his leg and went to work with a set of tweezers.

“Love is a chemical defect. I need a lab in order to work with chemicals, Molly. Do keep up.” His hissed with pain as she pulled out small shards of glass.

“Right chemical defect. So what do you need a brain from me?” She moved his hand around, looking at it from several angles to check for any left over pieces.

“No.” He said simply.

“Then what d’you need ?”

“Lips.” He answered as she placed a bandaid over the gash.

“That’s a new one. I don’t think I have any to spare.” Molly shut the kit and turned to put it away when he grabbed her coat, his fingers curling into the fabric.

He pulled her close, slipping off the table and stood with his forehead pressed against hers.

“I need a live set. I think you do have some to spare.” He whispered as she felt his warm breath tickle her cheeks.

“Listen, I-I dont know what you are playing at….”

“I’m not playing. This is for science.” He brought up both hands and rested them gingerly on her reddened cheeks.

“Will you help me with my experiment, Molly?” He titled her face back and held her gaze.

“Sherlock…” She protested weakly, before he pressed his lips softly against hers.

“Red cheeks, pupils dilated….” He spoke moving his hand to her neck, two fingers posed over her pulse.

“Heart beating wildly. I do think this is going rather well.” Sherlock grinned, pushing the hand on her pulse to rest at the back of her neck. Molly bit her lip as he titled her head back further and pressing his soft lips to the equally soft skin of her throat.

Molly focused on breathing and suddenly she found her hand reaching for his curls. She buried her hands in his hair and pulled his lips to meet hers.

Their lips moved in sequence contently for several moments before Sherlock pulled away and straightened his shirt.  
“I think I have confirmed my hypothesis. Thank you, Molly.”

She stood there staring at him, lips slightly parted.

“And…and what was that?”

“I may have a chemical defect for you.” He swept his lips over hers once more and swept out of the lab with a flourish of his coat, leaving Molly standing alone, utterly confused and slightly frustrated.


	4. First Meeting?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly and Sherlock met once, long before the morgue at Bart's...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for morbidmegz on tumblr.

~~Dear diary,~~  
No that sounds silly.  
~~Dear Journal,~~  
Do I even need this bit?  
Oh never mind.  
~~I thought I should note down the story of how I almost died. Funny, because if I had died then I couldn’t really write the story…~~  
  
oh, I sound so silly.  
Let me start over. So, I wanted to jot down the story of a really brilliant day, I mean I almost died, but I met someone. Well, not just anyone, or someone that is….  
I’ll just get on with the story. I was standing on the edge of the bridge over the Thames…..  
Sherlock was close to clawing his eyes out. At this rate, the NSY would have more cold cases than solved and they wouldn’t even let him touch any of them. So, he was young, what did age have to do with getting the work done. He had a job, didn’t he? Consulting Detective. He couldn’t work if they gave him nothing and the website was a dead end. BORING! Sherlock stared off into the water, trying to look for something interesting. He could count on some sort of intellectual stimulus being created under the dark crevasses of the bridge. Damn. Nothing at all. He turned to face the other side when something caught his eye.  
A girl, young, fresh out of University, stood on the edge of the Thames Bridge overlooking the water and close to falling in.  
She didn’t have a look of distress. More concentration.  
Suicide attempt?  
What was she doing? If she jumped from there she would survive and be in pain. Idiot.  
Sherlock Holmes crossed over to the other side of the bridge and called out to the girl.  
“Are you stupid?” Molly Hooper heard a voice call. She assumed it was for her, since she was the only one climbing over the railing.  
“Sorry?” She said looking over her shoulder and holding on for dear life.  
“If you are trying to kill yourself you won’t. You will simply fall and break just about every bone in your body and bruise it. Recovery time, over a year.”  
Molly looked up at the dark haired man. His blues eyes were striking and his cruel mouth looked soft. His high cheekbones gave him an ethereal look and the set of his face spoke of superiority and knowledge.  
Her thoughts were distracted for a moment. He is good looking.  
“I’m not trying to kill myself. Why would you think that?” She called up, fixing her footing on the ledge.  
“You are on the ledge of a bridge. You tell me.” His voice was deep and his tone harsh.  
“I’m only trying to climb down.” She justified.  
“There are easier ways to get to the bottom.” He pointed to the small boats in the distance.  
“Well, I can’t quite afford a boat.”  
Not killing herself. Climbing down. Why?  
“You can’t climb down.” He said adamantly. Was she insane? Or delusional. Maybe a bit of both. Sherlock climbed over the rail.  
“Give me your hand.”  
“I need to get to the bottom.” He saw the stubborn look in her eye.  
“I’ll help you lower yourself down. I’m much taller than you.” He smirked at her and watched as her face flushed red.  
“Okay.” She reached up to grab his hand and instead he reached further down her arm and yanked her up next to him.  
“WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR?!” She yelled in his ear, thrashing against him as he gripped her hard around the waist.  
“ARE YOU INSANE?” He yelled at her, pressing her body closer.  
Molly struggled against the stranger, the tears flooding her eyes. “I need-I have to-I need to get down.”  
“You don’t. Climb back up.” He instructed. Molly turned to face him, glaring, she couldn’t see straight.  
“Who are you to tell me what to do? I didn’t ask for your help.” She said, the tears falling freely on her face.  
“Someone intelligent. Now, put your foot on my thigh and climb up.” Molly looked down at the ground and river below them. She wiped her tears and stepped up onto his leg and back over the railing, holding back the tears until she hit the sidewalk. She knew it was useless to cry, but it had been so important. Molly didn’t move when it started to rain, nor did she notice that the crowd that had gathered begun to disperse.  
“Get up.” Sherlock looked down at her, holding out his hand. She glanced up and blinked the rain out of her eyes.  
“Who are you to tell me what to do? I didn’t ask for your help.” She said, the tears falling freely on her face.  
“Someone intelligent. Now, put your foot on my thigh and climb up.” Molly looked down at the ground and river below them. She wiped her tears and stepped up onto his leg and back over the railing, holding back the tears until she hit the sidewalk. She knew it was useless to cry, but it had been so important. Molly didn’t move when it started to rain, nor did she notice that the crowd that had gathered begun to disperse.  
“Get up.” Sherlock looked down at her, holding out his hand. She glanced up and blinked the rain out of her eyes. Lips trembling she took his hand and he lead her away whilst she looked back longingly.  
Sherlock dragged her into a coffee shop and sat her down in a booth. He took off his long belstaff and draped it on the chair. He then took off his suit jacket and put it over Molly’s trembling body.  
Molly watched as he went over to the counter and spoke to the person behind the counter, meanwhile tears dripped down her face mixed with rain water. Her mind was blank and she wished she had gotten down. She had needed to get to the bottom.  
“Here.” He pushed a cup of tea towards her and held a towel out to her. Molly stared at his hand in her face, with a blank expression.  
Sherlock wanted to groan. What was wrong with her? He wiped at her face for her and left the towel in her lap.  
“What was it that you needed at the bottom of the bridge if you weren’t jumping?” He looked at her trying to deduce what happened in her silence.  
With a embalming hand she touched the bare skin by her collar bone and at the base of her neck. “His…he…it dropped. I couldn’t let it go.” Tears streamed down her face and she had enough sense to pull the towel up to wipe them away.  
“A sentimental necklace. Your…father gave it to you. Am I right?” He smirked slightly.  
“Yes, I really need it back.”  
“Just tell your father and he will surely get his little girl a new one.”  
“He can’t-he…I can’t ask him.”  
“And why not?” He gave her an exhausted look and sipped at his own coffee.  
“He’s dead.” She said in a monotone. Molly saw his eyes widen.  
“My condolences. I didnt know.”  
“You don’t know my name… how would you know that?”  
Sherlock’s brows furrowed. “I didnt introduce myself. Sherlock Holmes. Consulting Detective.”  
He saw the vacant look on her face. “Molly Hooper.”  
“Pleased to have saved to from a very painful fall.”  
Molly tried to stabilize her hand in order to grasp the tea to no avail.  
“Molly, what do you do?”  
“What d'you mean?”  
“Your job?” Sherlock shrugged at her.  
“Assistant pathologist.”  
“Pathology is a very interesting area. How did you get into it?” Sherlock asked trying to ask her quests to distract her.  
“I don’t know. It’s my backwards way of helping people. I still get to be a Doctor and work in a lab. What is a consulting detective?”  
“I am the consulting detective. World’s only. I made the job. The police consult me when they have no idea what they are doing, which is most cases.”  
She nodded, disinterestedly, picking up her tea and lifting it to her lips.  
They were silent for a long time after. “The rain has stopped. Where do you live?” Sherlock asked eventually.  
“An apartment not far from Bart’s.”  
“You work at Bart’s."he stated.  
Molly nodded.  
"Come on.” He grabbed his long coat and left some money on the table.  
Out on the street he hailed them a cab, he held the door for her and let her get in first. Molly gave the cabbie the address and soon enough they were standing outside the door to her flat.  
“Well, Miss Hooper, I take my leave. Until we meet again.” He gave her a smile and walked down the hall back towards the lift.  
Molly pulled his jacket closer around her. They would definitely be meeting again, she smirked and unlocked the door to her flat.  
—–Years later———  
Christmas had been miserable for the most part. What with going to the party at Baker Street and Sherlock and that body. Molly shook the thought from her mind and set down her bag. One present was eating away at her. She wanted to know what he had gotten her. It was a small box. Maybe it was a microscope slide that he wanted analysing. Molly shook her head. She unwrapped it carefully and her breath caught in her throat.  
“Thought you might like this back. -SH” it said on the small note.  
Molly picked it up out of the box and looked at it through her tears.  
Sherlock had gone back and found it. Her necklace. Molly let the tears run down her face until there weren’t any left.


End file.
